


In the woods nobody hears you scream

by Murmeltierchen



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murmeltierchen/pseuds/Murmeltierchen
Summary: In the woods, during the battle, Claire and John stumble across one another. Jamie is fighting somewhere, so is William. John is on the way to find his son after what Percy told him. By chance, he and Claire meet by a little stream, both trying to find some water. They finally have time to talk and share an encounter that Jamie will never know about.As much as I love Claire and Jamie, I was blown away by John and Claire together. Cannot explain it.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Lord John Grey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	In the woods nobody hears you scream

As the water ran down his face, John had his eyes closed and simply listened to the sounds of the forest, occasionally interrupted by droning cannon fire.  
He scoops up another hand of the wonderful cold liquid and is about to drink it when a movement catches his eyes from across the narrow stream. It’s a person coming towards him. Because he only has one functioning eye and it is slightly crusted with dirt, he has trouble to make out who it is. Friend or foe, that is important to him at his current state. He uses the water in his hand to wash some of the grime from his good eye and looks up again.  
It’s Claire. His wife – Jamie’s wife. He corrects himself.  
What is she doing here?  
As he sits back on his hunches, he watches her approach. She is carrying a large jug, probably to transport water to whatever camp she came from.  
He know she hasn’t seen him yet, because her eyes are fixed on the forest floor so as not to trip. Her other hand is holding up her skirts to make walking a little easier.  
When she is considerably closer, close enough to hear him if he said something, he calls her name.  
“Claire!”  
She freezes and stares at him. She hasn’t yet reached the edge of the stream, but she is close enough for him to see her expression change. She recognized him almost instantly, he would have been hurt if it was otherwise as they had been together only hours ago.  
“John.” She comes closer and her expression shows slight warmth. Putting down the jug at the water’s edge, she drops her skirts and smiles at him across the shallow water.  
He rises to his feet and brushes off the dirt from his trousers.  
“Are you alright?” She looks at his bandage, which has now become dirty with mud, dust and god knows what.  
“I’m alright. Have you seen William?” He steps as close to the water’s edge as he is able without getting his shoes wet.  
“William? I’m afraid not, isn’t he on the battlefield? And why are you here? I left you inside of a perfectly good tent in a more or less safe camp.”  
“I don’t know if he is out there, I received some disturbing information regarding him and couldn’t stay with your son and grandson, as charming as they both were.” He looked around them as if trying to make out in which direction he would go.  
“Any idea where the British are? I presume it’s in the opposite direction of where you came from.”  
“Actually, it is, but I had to walk around some of their camps so I came from another direc-tion. Their camp is this way.” She points to her right and behind her. “Our current camp is the other way.”  
They stand and look at one another for a moment longer. John suddenly feels exposed in front of her. Her look seems to hit him right where their little bit of intimacy lived, where they had been as one, a unit for a very short time. He still doesn’t understand what it was about her that made him behave so uncharacteristically, so against his nature. She is the most extraordinary woman he has ever met and he calls himself lucky that she had shared at least a small portion of her life with him.  
A shudder runs through him as pictures of their nightly encounters shoot through his head and he abruptly looks down at the stream.  
“Well,” he begins and looks at the water running past him, “I guess I’ll better get going if I want to find William before it gets dark.”  
He bends over and pulls off his shoes, grimacing as the blisters and blood are revealed. He takes a first careful step into the ice cold water and expects to feel some sort of pain, but it was rather pleasant actually especially in the heat. He walks slowly to the middle of the stream, which is only two feet away from either edge and sighs audibly. Bliss.  
“John, are your feet hurt? Do you want me to take a look?”  
He didn’t even realize that he had closed his remaining eye until he opens it to look at the woman standing an arm’s length away from him with a slightly concerned look on her face.  
He smiles at her reassuringly and slowly wades through the water until he can step back onto dry land.  
“I don’t think it’s necessary, my dear, I can manage.” He puts his shoes into his coat pock-ets and begins to walk on the soft grass and moss, away from her and the cooling effects of the stream.

Before he has gotten far, there is something pressing that makes him stop. It suddenly occurs to him that he wants to know if their short moment together has left any kind of trace on her the way it has left its traces on him. He looks back over his shoulder and finds her standing almost on the same spot where she was before, look-ing after him.  
“Claire, Mrs. Fraser?” He corrected himself.  
“Yes?”  
“Was it terribly uncomfortable to be Lady John Grey?” He turns back to her and tries to gage her reaction. He sees her biting her lip. Something he knows she does to try and stop herself from saying something. That couldn’t be a good sign. His hopes sank.  
“I understand. It was a moment in time neither of us had much control over and both of us were really only there because of him. I thought as much.” He turns back around and walks away.  
“John!” The tone of her voice makes him stop abruptly. She had sounded like this, that night. Desperate and distraught. He hears her footsteps on the soft forest floor.  
“You know that I would have never done this if it had been somebody else.” Her voice is a lot closer now.  
“I shall endeavor to be grateful for the short time it lasted.” He almost whispers past the bitter taste in his mouth.  
“Why this now? I thought – you – you don’t even like to sleep with women. You love Ja-mie, were even jealous of me. What happened?”  
He feels rage coming on, anger coursing through his veins. How the hell is he supposed to know? Why doesn’t she have an answer? She always has them.  
He whirls around.  
“I have no idea why I feel this way, why I shared your bed, why I was even able to.” He rakes a hand through his short hair and finds that she is close enough to touch if he wants to.  
“I feel jealous of both of you now, of what you have together. I will never have something like this. But for just a second I got to have a glimpse of what he has and … I … just….”  
He abruptly stops talking because she has stepped forward, invading his personal space and the sympathetic look in her eyes makes him want to scream. She softly places a hand over his heart and he is sure that she could feel how it beats faster than was probably healthy.  
“I’m so sorry John. I should never have -.” She breaks up and looks down. “I feel as though I have used you and I never wanted to do that. Please, John, please don’t be bit-ter. I couldn’t bare it. I’m sure you will find someone who will give you joy and happiness.”  
He huffs and smiles sadly. She is looking at him again, no longer staring at their feet. She puts down her jug and brings her other hand up and strokes his cheek.  
“I’m convinced that there is somebody out there who will love you and cherish you. I’m sorry, that it’s neither me nor Jamie. But we will both be grateful for as long as we live. And remember: You still have William.”  
He feels himself nod, his mind once again racing to think where his son could be. But his thoughts abruptly come to a stop when he feels himself being enveloped in Claire’s warm and tender embrace. It only takes him a second to clutch her to him in a way that would be considered highly inappropriate in any kind of public setting, but he doesn’t give a damn. He is quite possibly holding this woman for the last time and he can’t get enough as her smell invades his senses. She makes a soft sound and squirms a little in his embrace, but hugs him back. Her movements don’t help cool down his temper, on the contrary.  
He can’t believe what is happening. He feels himself stirring in his dirty breeches and gasps for air which only brings more of her smell into his nostrils.  
“Dear god, Claire. What have you done to me?”  
She tries to lean back to look at him, but he doesn’t let her pull away, instead he lets his hands move down her back until her hips are between them and he slowly moves her against the front of his breeches. Given her profession, he is sure she understands what is going on.  
She abruptly gasps for air and manages to move back enough to find his eyes. Her mouth is open in disbelieve.  
“Never, I promise you, has this happened before. My first wife would have been the hap-piest of women if this had come natural to me, but I am not made in this fashion. How can this be happening?”  
“Are you thinking of Jamie?” Her tone is slightly panicky as she takes in the state he is in.  
“I wasn’t thinking of anything. It just happened when you embraced me.” He is still holding onto her waist, although not as tight as before.  
Their eyes meet again. He is sure that she can see his need for her. It must be showing plainly on his face.  
Her expression changes to astonishment and then to something he can only identify as a mixture of apprehension and a hint of want. He knows that he no longer has any right to her and yet…  
Taking her by the waist, he steers them towards the next tree. As her back makes contact with the bark she pushes both her hands against his chest.  
“No, John, we can’t. I am no longer your wife.” She looks deep into his eyes to get her point across, to make him understand, that this is wrong.  
“You never were.” The sadness in his voice surprises even him. “You were always Claire Fraser. I accept that.”  
He lets go of her waist and takes her wrists into his hands. He brings them up and softly kisses first one and then the other, before placing them on his shoulders.  
Before Claire had the chance to protest, he sinks to his knees and bunches up her skirts before swiftly disappearing beneath them. He immediately is enveloped by her scent. He knows it, has even had it on his own cock, enveloping him tight within her.  
“John! What do you think you are doing? Sto -.” The rest of her demands ceases abruptly as he pressed his mouth over her clitoris and sucks as hard as he is able to. He adds his swirling tongue and is rewarded by her trembling thighs and a long low moan. Immediate-ly he is reminded of the sounds she made while writhing underneath him on the rug in his bedroom. Her nails had dug into his shoulder blades and left red streaks all the way down to his ass. They had stung him for several days.  
As he has predicted, her hands leave his shoulders to push his head even further against her moist heat. He pulls one of her legs up to lay over his shoulder and literally feasts on the woman who had once done the same for him.  
He uses one of his hands to press a thumb against her opening without actually pushing inside and she instantly gasps and moans above him. Although it is muffled, he can tell it won’t take much longer. Her thighs are shaking and her grip on his head becomes pain-ful.  
Using his thumb to keep up the rhythm, he comes up for air from under her heavy skirts.  
He watches her squirm against his hand for a moment before asking in a low voice:  
“What’s it going to be, Claire, my mouth or my cock?”  
She manages to open her eyes and stares down at him. Her eyes are dark with lust.  
“I hate you for this, John Grey. Why couldn’t you have just found some lady of the night – aah, god – to – to, you know, take care of you? I’m not yours to take anymore.”  
He abruptly stands up, bringing her skirts with him, his hand still working her. He leans in, close to her ear.  
“Because you enjoy this with him. You enjoyed it with me. You weren’t Lady John when you shared my bed and I shared yours and you didn’t tell him about the night you put your mouth on me and made me beg. Claire Fraser did all that.”  
As he watches her eyes snap up to his, he is busy freeing the result of their encounter from its confines.  
“Now, please, tell me: my mouth or my cock?”  
Her own mouth works like that of a fish, her eyes big and brown staring at him. He dou-bles his efforts between her legs and she moans. He can tell that it wouldn’t take much longer, her eyes tell him everything.  
“Oh, god. John!” Her hands on his shoulders clench hard. He slowed his movements slightly down and earned an angry growl.  
“Oh for Christ’s sake, John, just fuck me already.”  
Her outburst takes him aback for a second, but then he does just that. They both fumble under her dress for a moment to align him, but then he pushes up into her, clutching her thighs for dear live. For a moment there are no other sounds around them but the forest. Then they both abruptly suck in a breath. They are impossibly close, looking into each other’s eyes, breathing the air out of each other’s mouths. Disbelieve.  
He leans in and instead of kissing her pink, open lips he closes his own mouth around her exposed pulse point, eliciting a high pitched moan from her. She abruptly winds an arm around his neck and clutches him to her.  
“Move.” She chokes out and undulated her hips against him.  
He does as he is told. He withdraws from her depth and for a moment she is sure he would leave her, but with a snap of his hips he is once again buried deep inside her and they groan in unison. Him against her neck and she towards heaven.  
Their rhythm had begun slowly, but it changed rather quickly. Holding on to her thighs, he pushes into her with increasing force, which, judging by her desperate moans, are what she had in mind when she ordered him to “fuck” her. He made a mental note to later on find out how she had come by such language.  
Her hand, which is not currently sinking its nails into his neck, finds its way into his short hair, running down the back of his head and the ensuing shudder makes him piston his hips rather harshly against hers.  
“Oh god.” She sobs and he looks up to find her eyes tightly closed and her face a grimace of ecstasy, her hair is a dark halo around her face, her curls bobbing in rhythm with their thrusts.  
Without thinking he doubles his efforts, setting an almost punishing pace. She is hot and wet around him and he can feel her thighs tremble against his hips. Not long.  
Mumbling reaches his ears, but he can’t make out what it is she is saying. Letting go of one thigh he captures her chin in his hand and stares at her mouth to find out what she is saying.  
“Ha…r. A…er.” He can’t make out what she is whispering.  
“Speak up, my dear. I cannot hear you.” He leans closer so his ear is almost touching her lips.  
“Harder.” She groans out and he abruptly looks up into her eyes, only to find them wide open and staring at him with nothing but lust in them. He pants with his efforts to keep up their movements. His expression is of utter disbelieve.  
She cannot possibly….  
But she does.  
Deciding, that their current position is not favorable for what she is asking, he abruptly clutches her to him and drops to the floor. Once there he places both her knees over his elbows as he leans above and drives into her with wild abandon.  
Her reaction is immediate. Throwing back her head and keening out her lust, the first shudders of her impending climax transfer to him. He has to gasp for breath and groans as he places his forehead down on her chest. One of her hands comes to hold him there, the other is clawing at the forest floor in a desperate attempt to hold on to something.  
For a while the only sounds between them is their combined panting and the sound of flesh against flesh, as they both race towards completion. Not long now, he can feel him-self close to losing any kind of restraint.  
Finally, finally, he can feel her going rigid against him, fisting her hand in the back of his shirt and then a sound is ripped from her throat that had him snap his head up to see her face.  
Utter bliss. His lust filled brain cannot come up with another word for her expression. Be-fore he can comprehend anything else, her tight heat clamps down on him like a velvet vice and he shudders and groans as his own release comes crashing down on him with-out warning. He cannot help throwing back his head in abandon as a sound, almost a shout escapes from him.  
His hips still press into hers but in shorter, sharper movements as he spills himself deep inside her body. There are aftershocks running through both of them for a long time. They ride them out, him with his head back between her breasts, her with both hands holding him there. He slowly lets her legs sink back to the ground and hears her hiss as the mus-cles protest their vigorous activities.  
Several moments of silence follow

Slowly, he raises his head, looking down at her serene face.  
“You truly are a remarkable woman.”  
Her eyes open just a tiny bit.  
“Apparently I can cure homosexuality.”  
“That depends.” He slowly sat up. “Am I cured if I inquired what Jamie sounds like when he spills himself inside you?”  
The whack to the head he received was totally worth the look of indignation on her face. He smiled down at her. Slowly she ceased to scowl at him.  
“I guess I haven’t found the cure, yet.”  
“No, but I like you anyway.”  
They shared a last short smile before helping each other up, adjusting clothes and picking dirt off skirts and trousers.  
Finally they stood face to face.  
“Well, goodbye my dear. I don’t expect us to see much of each other in the coming days.”  
“Be well, John. Remember, you deserve to be happy. Even if it isn’t with us.”  
He smiled with a hint of regret, bowed slightly and walked away.  
As Claire watched him leave she realized that he was still barefoot. She smiled to herself, turned towards the camp site and left.


End file.
